Psalm 69:1-36 A Jesus Psalm Christians pray Psalms 68 and 69 back-to-back in a way that King David never imagined. The eschatological vision of Psalm 68 depends upon the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The glorious march to Zion, celebrated in Psalm 68, becomes an ordeal of suffering in Psalm 69. Jesus saw himself in this psalm (Ps 69:4; John 15:25) and the apostles saw Jesus (Ps 69:9; John 2:17; Rom 15:3). The Savior of the world is ridiculed, mocked, scorned, and despised. He is estranged, rejected, abused, and condemned. The incarnate one – the very embodiment of God’s love and power – is heartbroken and hated beyond all measure because of his passion for the house of God and the people of God. On the cross Jesus received the symbols of his tormenters scorn, gall and vinegar. This did not escape the notice of the apostles who found in this reference a vivid prophecy of the messiah (Ps 69:21; Matt 27:34; Mark 15:36; Luke 23:36; John 19:29). In the Spirit, David prayed knowingly for himself and providentially for the Son of David. To deny Psalm 69's messianic character because the psalmist did not intentionally prophesy a suffering messiah contradicts the apostolic interpretation of Psalm 69. This psalm filled Jesus’ praying imagination as the Father led him to the cross and then gave the disciples a vivid prophetic description of the cross afterwards. We pray the psalm today as a guide to the cruciform life we are called to live because of Christ. We know that the march to Zion runs through “the miry depths” and “deep waters.” When a passion for Christ takes hold we should not be surprised when we are hated without reason. Praying Our Pain Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God. Those who hate me without reason outnumber the hairs of my head; many are my enemies without cause, those who seek to destroy me. I am forced to restore what I did not steal. You, God know my folly; my guilt is not hidden from you. Lord, the Lord Almighty, 1 may those who hope in you not be disgraced because of me; God of Israel, may those who seek you not be put to shame because of me. For I endure scorn for your sake, and shame covers my face. I am a foreigner to my own family, a stranger to my own mother’s children; for zeal for your house consumes me, and the insults of those who insult you fall on me. When I weep and fast, I must endure scorn; when I put on sackcloth, people make sport of me. Those who sit at the gate mock me, and I am the song of drunkards. Psalm 69:1-12 The psalmist leads by example, teaching us to transpose our pain into prayer. It is not only therapeutic, it is redemptive, to give poetic, verbal, and written form to our deep-felt feelings. Prayer is not the “spiritual” thing to do; it is the sensible, practical thing to do. We are often tempted to bury our troubles and pretend they’re not there. We try to escape the flood through distraction and denial, but the more we try, the more we feel engulfed and swept away. We seem to conclude that our problems are beyond the scope of God’s comfort and solution. We turn to psychologists and physicians before turning to the Lord in prayer. We tacitly assume that modern life has eclipsed the provision of the Lord and that we are on our own. This is not true, however, and our neglect of prayer has been at the expense of our physical, emotional, and mental health.1 Praise God for counselors, therapists, psychiatrists and physicians, but real prayer is the prelude to help and healing. The psalmist’s array of images is not meant to describe a literal historical situation. His painting of desperation is impressionistic. He allows the images to merge into one complete picture of danger, despair, and depression. He is overwhelmed – up to his neck in flood waters. It is as if he is drowning in sorrow, swept away in confusion, and pulled under by hate. He is lost at sea and dying of thirst. His sun-scorched eyes search the horizon for God, but to no avail. He is besieged by legions of enemies who hate him for no just cause and no good reason. In the court of public opinion he is found guilty on trumped up charges and condemned. The persecution is so intense that he is desperate to keep his relationship with God unhindered. “God, you know every sin I’ve committed; my life’s a wide-open book before you” (Ps 69:5 The Message). Implicit in this plea is the power of forgiveness remembered and reaffirmed. Yet, the nagging feeling of letting God down and bringing shame on the people of God persists. He is conscious of his weakness and frailty, but confident that the reason for his suffering is due to his faithfulness. The psalmist acknowledges an emotion that is experienced by Christ’s followers 1 Webster, Soulcraft, 14. 2 much more often than it is addressed. To be estranged from family members and siblings and to be alienated from colleagues and neighbors because of Christ can lead to self-doubt and a sense of guilt where there is no real guilt. We can suffer a “guilty conscience” for doing the right thing. This is the strange thing about obedience and faithfulness; you can feel bad for doing what God wants you to do. The psalmist humbly turns to God for reassurance in the midst of these feelings. Like our Lord, we want to embrace the alienation that comes from the gospel. We want to “live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us” (1 Pet 2:12). If we follow Jesus’ path to the cross we can expect to receive his treatment. It is scandalous that the one who healed the sick, loved the outcast, and transformed the sinner should die a hideously cruel death by Roman crucifixion. What kind of world do we live in that sentences holy and compassionate men and women to die? Jesus exposed the obvious fact that the political and religious authorities are not always on the side of righteousness. Greed, pride, and hate often control the power brokers of society. Jesus became a victim for the sake of righteousness. It was impossible for anyone living in the first century to gloss over the practical social consequences of following Jesus. It should be equally impossible in the twenty-first century.2 If it’s not zeal for the Lord’s house that consumes us, but some other kind of zeal, we will be like the people who scorn the psalmist and oppress the just. Instead of identifying with the psalmist we will be like the antagonists in this psalm who insult, mock, and ridicule the righteous. When Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out the sheep and cattle and money changers, his disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me” (John 2:17; Ps 69:9). But it was more than a single line that linked Jesus to this psalm. The whole description fits. Jesus “came unto his own, but his own received him not” (John 1:11). He was a foreigner in his own family (Ps 69:8). He prayed the way the psalmist prayed: “the insults of those who insult you fall on me” (Ps 69:9). The apostle Peter spoke of Christ’s followers being “filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy” (1 Pet 1:8) but this deep resilient joy more often than not coincides with the world’s contempt. It is only as the psalmist transposes his pain and fear into prayer that he is able to move toward praise. God-dependent Prayer But I pray to you, Lord, in the time of your favor; in your great love, O God, answer me with your sure salvation. Rescue me from the mire, do not let me sink; deliver me from those who hate me, from the deep waters. Do not let the floodwaters engulf me or the depths swallow me up 2 Webster, A Passion for Christ, 161. 3 or the pit close its mouth over me. Answer me, Lord, out of the goodness of your love; in your great mercy turn to me. Do not hide your face from your servant; answer me quickly, for I am in trouble. Come near and rescue me; deliver me because of my foes. Psalm 69:13-18 The psalmist pleads: “answer me,” “rescue me,” “do not let me sink,” “deliver me,” “answer me, Lord,” “turn to me,” “do not hide your face,” “answer me quickly,” “come near and rescue me,” “deliver me.” He piles up his staccato pleas into a single petition reiterated ten times for impact. Everything requested is based on the Lord’s character and saving action. The psalmist turns to God because of his loving favor, his great love, his sure salvation, the goodness of his love, and his great mercy.